Privacy of Your Cubicle
by suckersoprano
Summary: Rick teases Craig mercilessly all day and gives him a little surprise when the other man thinks he'll have to wait until they get home.


Both of Craig's hands were covering his face to hide the horrific flushed color his cheeks had taken on for most of the day. He had not one single down moment during the work day that Rick hadn't come and done _something_ to bother him in some way. When he had just arrived, Rick had spun him around into his arms and made _very_ good use of the long coat Craig had worn to work. His big hands dug into Craig's back pants pockets while planting a very _heavy_ kiss on his surprised mouth only to break apart when someone came by. The smug look on his face made Craig think this was the last time he'd hear from his amorous co-worker all day, but that was unfortunately _far_ from what happened.

There was a brush of teeth against the nape of his neck when he was standing at the copy machine; a full-on _grope_ when he bent to take a sip from the water fountain. At lunchtime, he resembled a tomato from a slightly _risqué _text he received from a certain Richard in his contacts list. That same Richard cornered him in the bathroom, intent on pinning him to the wall; Craig narrowly escaped that one, but he left with wide eyes and his glasses slipping down his nose.

After lunchtime, Rick didn't let up, but calmed the attention down just slightly. Instead of attempting to embarrass him with being felt up in public, now it was more of a sweet kind of attention. Public displays of affection made Craig _just_ as embarrassed unfortunately. The quick kiss to the back of his hand when Rick came by to ask for something that Craig couldn't remember had him turning colors, too. Same with the embrace from behind while he attempted to fax something; he could only hope he got the number right, all of the sweet things Rick was murmuring just below his ear were distracting to say the least.

Of course, in Rick fashion, he had to go and _ruin_ it. In what Craig assumed was just supposed to be a hand through Craig's hair, Rick took it too far, backing him against the desk after pressing his mouth to Craig's chin and jawline. He was absolutely positive that whatever he tried to say to get him to remember that they were at _work_ did _not_ come out as a needy sort of whimper. Definitely not the sort of noise that made Rick completely forget about work and hook his arms under Craig's knees to sit him on the desk. While agonizing over the day, Craig was _absolutely sure_ he hadn't wrapped his legs around Rick's waist and that he had _no idea_ how they had gotten to some very… _vulgar_ grinding right on his desk during office hours.

Getting broken had taken a weird gasping noise from a certain coworker Craig hoped would keep his mouth shut. This was completely humiliating and as _upset_ as he was… There was a knock at his cubicle wall and he swiveled around in his chair to see Rick there with an apologetic look on his face.

"Talked t'Wheats, he ain't gonna say nothin'," he assured him, taking the liberty of stepping into the small space.

Craig grumbled something that may have sounded like an affirmative in some sense, not meeting Rick's eye until the man reached over and tilted his face to look up. He really did look sorry, Craig had to concede; he swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying to let the humiliation dispel itself.

"Thank you for speaking with him," he said a bit clearer.

"Now I gotta make it up to ya," he announced, moving to completely scoop Craig out of his office chair.

Before he could even argue, he was arranged straddling Rick's lap in the damned chair. He wore an annoyed and confused expression that only got worse with the forceful meeting of mouths that followed, aided by a quick yank on Craig's tie. It was hard to _think _through the haze that he'd been put under the whole damned day now that there was that slick slide of tongue in his mouth and a familiar hardness rocking right back into his own. In the back of his mind, he knew this was exactly what had gotten him into trouble the first time, but the light-headed, dizzy feeling of knowing they could get caught… Rick _loved _that feeling and well, Craig was not entirely immune to it.

There was a heady groan between their mouths; Rick's hands were threading themselves along the waistline of Craig's trousers, reaching his belt and undoing the buckle without much effort. Craig desperately rocked against the roaming hands across him, not even thinking about Rick trying to work him out of his clothes until the zipper of his fly was lowered.

"_Rick_," he hissed, "_Rick, don't_—ah!"

It appeared that working Craig out of his clothes wasn't Rick's goal at all. Those roaming hands had pushed past Craig's slacks and pushed his shirt and vest up just enough to easily cup his still-hard length. Rick only had smirks and massaging hands in response; Craig gripped the other man's wrists in a futile and weak attempt to pull him away, but his hips betrayed him, rubbing right back against Rick's palm pressed against him. He pressed his forehead against Rick's shoulder and sucked in a breath while the hands completely ignored Craig trying to remove them and pushed away the rest of his clothing, wrapping his fingers around his cock.

Involuntarily, Craig bucked forward with a low moan. This was _exactly_ what he'd been anticipating all day; the tense, knotted feeling in his stomach hadn't left him alone and it wasn't going to until Rick decided to mercifully get him off. There was pressure on his hips, pushing him back down into Rick's lap; which with a heavy sigh, he sank back down, trying damn hard to relax. There was a light, teasing chuckle before Craig felt a mouth brushing against his earlobe.

"Been waitin' for me all day, huh?" Rick said in a very low voice.

The grip on Craig's arousal began to move, very slowly stroking him with Rick's thumb pressed very firmly against the head. All the pink-eyed man could do was breath in shuddering pants and weakly nod his head. It wasn't as though he hadn't been _thinking_ about it all day. The honest answer got him the reward of a faster pace; Craig's hands lashed out from wrist to fabric, fisting Rick's shirt tightly.

"_Oh god_," Craig whimpered, cautiously rolling his hips.

"Gotta tell ya, darlin', I planned on windin' y'up _real_ tight all day," Rick chuckled, catching Craig's earlobe in his mouth and sucking.

Had Craig's mind been clearer and he not distracted by a hand on his cock stroking him at a borderline frustrating pace, he would have been annoyed. Just the _plan_ to have him a begging mess like this turned him on right now, Craig tugged on Rick's shirt desperately.

"Rick… _please_," he gasped.

He quickened agreeably and Craig nearly collapsed into him. Rick held him up with a hand exploring his stomach, tracing his hipbones, skirting upward across his ribs while he pumped the cock of the man in his lap. Craig's breathing hitched and he bit down hard on his bottom lip while he tried to keep his desperate moaning quiet. Teeth brushed his earlobe in the teasing, gentle way that only Rick knew how; that got Craig's mouth to loosen up.

"_Aahhn, yes_," he breathed, hands snaking up to wrap around Rick's neck; the leverage he got there was used to rock his hips harder into Rick's grasp.

Rick might have laughed low in his ear, but the moment Craig actually could've heard it, his back was arching away with a long, low moan. The stroking picked up as fast as Rick could manage it; Craig's clothes rustling and his sad attempt at muffled moaning were the only noises he could hear. The tension was welling up and it was beginning to make him afraid he was going to make too much noise. He buried his face into Rick's neck, only then hearing Rick's aroused breathing matching his heavy panting.

"Almost there, darlin'," he muttered, his fingers digging into Craig's hip while he kept up his rhythm pumping him.

"_N-Not here!_" Craig managed to sputter, all while forcing down a groan with a clenched jaw, "Please… not here, I don't want to come at_—oh-oh god, R-Rick please!_"

The sad attempt at quieting his plaintive whimpering was completely thrown out the window as Rick sank his teeth into Craig's neck and sucked _hard_. The smaller man tensed up and threw his head back with a choked moan, bucking up frantically, coming hard right into a set of big teasing hands. His fingers dug into the back of his tormentor's neck, shuddering while he brought Craig through his release. His neck was finally released from Rick's attention and he moved his hands from Craig's rumpled clothing.

"_Hahhh… _w-was that all really _necessary_?" Craig wheezed when he finally remembered to breathe again.

Rick reached up and tugged the collar of Craig's shirt down, showing of a neat little red mark that would inevitably turn purple. He shrugged, grinning triumphantly while Craig made an effort to smooth down his vest and fasten his pants, grimacing at the mess that he'd have to go home in.

"S'worth seein' ya all mussed up like this, s'pretty damn hot," Rick mumbled, shifting his hips up to show off just what he meant by that.

Craig raised an eyebrow and pressed the heel of his hand against Rick's groin, eliciting a hum of anticipation from the bigger man, "I assume you mean _this_," he stated, voice quickly going back to its cool and low tone he normally used, "If you even want to _think_ about me taking care of this… I'm going to make you _work_ for it."

Rick blinked, mouth slightly agape at Craig's sudden commanding tone. He lifted himself off of the chair, leaving the other man sitting in it, slightly confused. He retrieved some tissues and dropped the box on Rick's lap, who jumped with a start as it landed on his front.

"That is, if I don't decide to go home without you," Craig said airily, snagging his coat from the hook on his cubicle wall and skirting his way out.

Rick hastily cleaned his hands and raced after the sly little bastard. He had to run to try and catch up, but there was _no way_ he was getting away without a chase. Neither of them noticed the cubicle next to Craig's was occupied by one very red-faced Wheatley. He heard them thundering past him and finally poked his head out. Oh man alive, he still wasn't going to say anything. No one would _believe_ him.


End file.
